


A Matter of Faith

by skinman



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Baby Fic, Eavesdropping, F/M, Other, Shapeshifting, as mulder was of samantha, big brother william, except not really, is just as protective of this kid, mulder and scully have a daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 19:43:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14064177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinman/pseuds/skinman
Summary: Still on the run, presumed dead by Mulder and Scully, William pays a visit to his new sister, knowing that it might be the one and only time they meet....Hey there.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Feels like we’ve met before, doesn’t it? Maybe we did, before we were born. I think so.” Some part of him really felt that. Something about her was startlingly familiar, like they were connected on some level he couldn't be sure of yet. He ran his thumb over the tiny, delicate hand that still gripped his index finger.





	A Matter of Faith

William hadn’t originally been sure what face to use this time, but he’d taken the time to make sure it was right. He couldn’t endanger her. Wouldn't. He wouldn't be able to live with it if he did. So, he planned, meticulously. He’d been scoping the place out for a week now, memorising the faces of the nurses on the ward, learning the rota, posing as various visitors. There was a nurse that had called in sick today, a young woman called Shelly Callahan. Short, blonde, unassuming, and exactly the kind of opportunity he’d been hoping for.

Entering an empty break room he took a deep breath, and envisioned his chosen persona, projecting it confidently. He’d only gotten stronger these past months, now that he better understood exactly what and who he was. There was no point fighting it, or hiding it, not now. Right now he just needed to learn as much as he could about Project Crossroads, about his creation, so he could destroy the organisation that stolen so much from him. One day, he wanted to be able to have a piece of normalcy again, and he couldn't have that if they were still out there.

The nursery was pretty empty, there were only three or four other babies. It easier to locate her, not that he needed much help. He knew it was her without even needing to glance at the name on the crib. Somehow, standing so close, it was only now that he began to question his reason for being there. He’d told himself it was just to check - to check that she wasn’t anything more than Mulder and Scully’s child. But, then again, maybe there was another reason he was there? One he couldn’t quite admit to himself. He’d wanted to see her, even just once. A few more months and he'll have been running for a year. He missed being part of a family, having people around him, missed having attachments. He missed his parents the most; the Van De Kamp’s deaths haunted him. He saw their faces all too often in his nightmares. He'd never been under the impression Mulder and Scully would be able to fill the gaping hole his parent’s deaths had left, that wasn't why he was here, but knowing somewhere out there were two people who still cared about him, that still loved him, that did help. It helped him feel like maybe he had a future. He wouldn’t tell them he was alive. Not yet, maybe not for many years, maybe not ever. It had to be this way, until it was safe enough, if it ever was. He couldn’t bring the horrors he knew now into their lives. They didn’t deserve that. Not after everything they’d already been through.

William reached out to gently trace a finger over his sister’s tiny palm. She immediately closed her fist around the tip, without even stirring in her sleep. There was no doubt in his mind that she was exactly what she should be; a true miracle this time.

“Hey there,” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “feels like we’ve met before, doesn’t it? Maybe we did, before we were born. I think so.” Some part of him really felt that. Something about her was startlingly familiar, like they were connected on some level he couldn't be sure of yet. He ran his thumb over the tiny, delicate hand that still gripped his index finger.

“My name’s William.” He continued. He did go by that name sometimes now, among many others, but beyond that it just felt right to introduce himself to her with the name their shared mother had given him. “I’m your big brother.”

He’d never had a sibling before, not even close, his parents had only adopted once, and were completely unable to have children of their own. It hadn’t bothered him too much growing up, but the idea had grown on him lately.

“That one’s gorgeous isn’t she.” A nurse appeared behind William, holding a clipboard to her chest and smiling down at his new sister. 

“Yeah,” William answered simply, smiling too. 

“Wasn’t expecting to see you in today, thought you’d come down with something?” The nurse inquired.

“No, nothing like that.” William feigned confusion. “Must have been someone else.”

“Okay, well, since you _are_ here. Mr Mulder just arrived so you can take baby girl through for them, before he comes looking for her. And can you restock the room? Taylor was supposed to do it but Miss Hardy is having trouble breastfeeding so she’s in there with her.”

William tried to mask his reaction with a polite smile. This wasn’t part of his plan. His plan had been to check on his sister, make sure she was okay, nothing less, nothing more. He couldn’t just dump the baby and run out now though, that would look beyond suspicious.

“No problem.” He heard himself reply.

“Great. I’ll be there in a minute or two anyway to finalise some of the forms.” The nurse walked away.

 Okay… so, now all he had to do was pick up the baby. That was the next thing. He could do that. 

She stayed asleep as he slid his hands underneath her head and rump, tentatively tucking her into his elbow. God, he was so afraid he might break her. She was so damn small… He tried to remember the little he knew about babies. It was not a lot... at all. If anyone started asking him any questions he’d be sunk. It wouldn’t be smart to try to keep this charade up for too long.

“It’s okay, I got you.” William muttered, hoping he was telling the truth. The baby whimpered a little as he settled her in his arms, her fists up, legs kicking against his chest, but after he got her comfy she quieted quickly.

He had to make out like he knew exactly where he was going, so he walked a slowly as he could without drawing attention. This was a nightmare. “This is all your fault, you know that right?” He said with a resigned sigh, informing the squirming bundle held against his chest. He knew the post-natal rooms were the next corridor along. He just had to keep walking slow and look out for red hair.

Much to his luck it was only the third room along and the door was wide open. William stayed to one side a moment, apprehensive, processing. His breath hitched. Inside this room the man who’d declared himself to be William's father held William's birth mother’s hand and spoke softly. In terms of his parentage, William couldn’t be sure what he knew now. He knew that the smoking man from his visions had been his ‘creator’, by his own admission. But what did that really mean? Was the smoking man his father? Or just the man who’d made his conception possible? William remembered the way Mulder had rushed in to embrace him when he’d been too scared and confused to process it. The way Mulder and Scully had chased him, putting themselves, putting this new child he held now in danger to try and save his life. William had been adopted, which made it easier to know what really mattered. How could the smoking man even hope to compare to a man William knew now had loved him his whole life?

William stepped through the door frame, out of the shadow it cast in the corridor, and into the light. He tried not to let the fear and guilt he felt show in his forced smile. “Hi there. Brought someone to see you.”   

He also tried not to react when Mulder completely ignored him in favour of the baby. The way Mulder looked down at her, with that softness in his eyes, and his small lopsided smile… William knew Mulder must have looked at him like that once. _‘I held you when you were a baby.’_  Witnessing this moment made the reality of that sentence so much more tangible to him. Once, a long time ago, they’d held him between them like they held his sister now.

Mulder and Scully were so busy fussing over the little girl, they didn’t even notice William slip back out into the hall. He pressed his back against the cool, white wall, just beside the door, eyes fluttering closed. He wasn’t intending to eavesdrop, he just meant to spend a moment gathering his thoughts. 

“I still can’t believe she’s here.” William heard his mother speak first.

“Everything we’ve seen Scully, and somehow this is the one thing I find hardest to comprehend.” Mulder said softly.

There was a long pause.

“She…” Scully’s gentle voice failed her, breaking before she could even finish the first word of her sentence, “she looks so much like he did.” Her tone became that of a pained whisper, "Don't you think?"

On the other side of the wall William’s eyes shot open.

“And the way she looks at me, with those eyes, just like his. And Em-”

“Nobody’s going to take her from you this time, Scully.” Mulder cut her off to reassure her. “And I’m not going anywhere either.” He sounded completely resolute, though the shadow of guilt was evident in his tone, like he still blamed himself somehow for not being there when William was a baby. 

There were a few seconds of still silence.

“I  was thinking… I don’t want to name her after someone we’ve lost, Mulder." Scully changed the conversation from the sad subject of her lost children, only to find the equally sad subject of other lost loved ones. "I don’t want her connected to those tragedies, no matter how much I loved Melissa… or you loved Samantha. We named William after our fathers, and then we lost him too.” Scully explained. She spoke as though she’d been considering this at length for a while.

“But, what you said before... about your mom?” Mulder trailed off.

“For a middle name?” Scully asked rhetorically. "I know what I said, but it's hardly fair for me to ask you to give up naming your daughter after your sister, if I don't give up naming her after my mother."

“Maggie's last words were about the grandchild we didn't get to raise, about William. She should have got the chance to watch him grow up. She’ll never get to meet our daughter, Dana, but she can be a part of her life this way.” Mulder rationalised. "Your mother mattered to me too; I want our daughter to have her name."

There was pause, heavy and intimate, William almost felt as if he were intruding on something. In some way he was.

“Okay,” Scully’s tone was gentle, as though she might be smiling softly.

William’s face was drawn in a slight grimace, eyes shining with tears that hadn’t fallen yet. He’d never thought much about who else might have been affected by his adoption beyond his birth mother. To hear that a grandmother he’d never met had spoken of him with her dying breath, that was difficult to process, or understand. This grandmother had probably cried at his birth, rocked him to sleep, soothed and kissed him when he was still a baby. Somehow he began to feel a grief over someone he’d never known. He’d grown up without grandparents. His mother's parents had lived in the midwest, they hadn’t been around much. It was hard not to feel like something had been taken from him. When he was a child he'd never wanted for anything, his mom had been so loving, somehow her absence is what made the pain of the discovery of his grandmother's love so much keener. So many people that had loved him... and were gone now. 

Pulling away from the wall William moved across the hall and hid inside a dimly lit supply closet, so he could wipe away his tears and recompose himself in private. After a few minutes or so, William gathered up some of the towels, nappies, and onesies on the shelves in front of him, and made his way back, just as he'd promised the nurse. A few more minutes and he could be out of here, he told himself as he re-entered the room. That same nurse from earlier had Mulder and Scully’s attention, as she took them through some paperwork. William managed to slip in pretty much unnoticed. The baby was in a cot not far from the bed, and William’s eyes were drawn to her even as he organised the laundry. He had so much more he wished he could say, to the baby, to Mulder and Scully. Seeing them in pain, thinking he was dead, he felt terrible. It was better than the alternative though. They were better off heartbroken than running for their lives, forced to abandon their daughter.

Drifting over to the cot, William checked Mulder and Scully were distracted, and reached down to stroke the tiny amount of soft, pale hair atop her head with the back of his fingers. He then moved  so the pads of his middle and index fingers were resting at the baby’s temple, wondering what she might be thinking. It hit him like a small electric shock. A split second, and then it was gone. For just a moment he had seen his own face, his real face, reflected back at him through her eyes. William knew he had a connection with Scully, though he hadn’t accessed it since his supposed death. Perhaps, William thought, he could bridge his mind with his sister's as well? Perhaps he could watch over her this way? ' _I'll be seeing you. I promise. One day.'_  The little girl in the cot looked right up at him with intelligent eyes, and reached out her chubby hands toward him, truly seeing him. She wasn’t fooled by his facade. Had she heard his silent promise? 

William took a step back, it would only be moments before one or both parents turned around to check on the baby. He should go now, before he made a stupid mistake and revealed himself. Turning to walk out, he wondered if he would ever see them all again. And, how long would it be? It took everything he had not to glance back for one last look. Now, living as he did, coming to terms with what he'd lost, he felt more of a connection to Mulder and Scully than he ever had when he'd fist met them. He'd always liked them, and he wasn't sure he loved them, but maybe them loving him was enough? Enough to begin with.

The other nurse exited the room on his heels, and William couldn’t help but ask, “Did they choose a name yet?”

“Yeah. ‘Faith Margaret’, isn’t that cute?” It was a rhetorical question, and so the nurse broke away from him without waiting for an answer.

“Faith,” William muttered to himself, his vision suddenly blurring. He felt pain course through the nerves in his brain, and a pressure, like a vice tightening around his skull. He tucked himself into a corner, and tried to stay as calm as possible, pressing a hand to his forehead, with his eyes tightly shut. 

_A little girl with auburn hair in loose curls, freckles, and bright eyes. Mulder laughing, though he couldn’t be seen. The girl leant forward to blow out the flames of six candles sat atop a chocolate birthday cake that was set down by Scully’s hands, all seen through a crack in the blinds. William was outside, feet shuffling back and forth. Was this right? Should he go? Warm arms enveloped him, holding on tight. He'd forgotten what it was like, to be held like that._

The vision was over before William could even really process it. Six years. That’s how long it would take. For six years he had to let his parents think he was dead. William bit his lip hard, and slowly breathed in through his nose. He’d be twenty-four by then, but it would be worth it, as long as they were safe. He could finish this all for good. The syndicate had created him to champion their cause, so maybe he also had the ability to destroy it. His parents, they’d be okay now. After all... they had Faith.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was kind of rushed, I did it in one night, but I just like the concept, even if the execution of it isn't my best. Subject to possible rewrites at some point. Thanks for reading!


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